


Keeping Appearances

by Eclissy



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: M/M, That's it, slight mention of vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclissy/pseuds/Eclissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With too much time to himself, Sakuma is confined in a small town he calls home. One early morning, a familiar face with a fake name to put it to finds him first.</p><p>(May turn into a series or a bunch of drabbles)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Appearances

The bite of an Autumn morning’s cold air reddened Sakuma’s shoulders as he went for his morning run. His jacket had been snubbed for the day, folded on top of a futon in a small room Sakuma genuinely called home. That left him a thin tank and trousers for warmth.

If there had been anyone out so heinously early as he was, ready to set off on their daily routine, Sakuma’s wind chapped cheeks, handsome focus, and toned arms would have taken some eyes. At least, for a second or two. It was nice to see him leave but he was fast.

That being said, there was one finely dressed man out and he wasn’t going to watch for _only_ a second.

“Ah! Good morning!” Sakuma greeted his fellow jogger, only somewhat confused at their choice of attire. From the feet up, Sakuma noticed dress shoes, suit pants, neat white shirt, undone tie, jacket draped over their shoulder, and a face that made his stomach jump into his throat.

“Good mor-ning,” Miyoshi crooked smile and side-long glance had about the same effect on Sakuma as his a whip snapping at his heels but the soldier knew how to carry himself over a stumble. “Didn’t think I’d catch you here.”

“Miyoshi! What?” Sakuma, keeping at his pace, had meant to elaborate on the question. ‘What are you doing? Why are you here? Is there trouble?’ were all still vague questions the spy wouldn’t have answered with anything other than a shrug but they at least sounded a little smarter than a flat ‘What?’

Apparently, that ‘What?’ didn’t even merit a glance let alone a word. Miyoshi kept his nose up, having no trouble keeping up with Sakuma’s strides.

Unlike the subtle nuances of the Joker Game he had stumbled into not too long ago, Sakuma didn’t miss the spy’s implication.

This wasn’t going to be a race but the one who didn’t collapse into a heap first would get silent gloating rights.

Sakuma could win this one. Or, he had a chance at winning this one. Maybe, if he pushed really hard.

Then again, Sakuma had been there to observe the D-Agency’s training. Compared to a marathon length swim in frigid waters and hours of written tests – which was nothing to laugh at, Sakuma would have been pushed to the verge of tears in those – compared to a short endurance run?

Giving up was a hard to chew definition in Sakuma’s book and he would have been shaming the people who trained him if he did. Sakuma would go as far as he could.

Almost an hour later, having gone through the streets, up some stairs, reaching a walkway by the river, Sakuma was a panting sweaty mess, arms drooping, ready to melt into ground.

And Miyoshi? He was fresher than an early spring breeze.

While Sakuma’s head could be easily mistaken for an overripe baked tomato, Miyoshi’s only looked like it had been kissed by a peach.

The soldier knew a loss when he saw one, gracefully puttering to a stop up until he dropped to his knees. Sakuma’s lungs were on fire, the burn scratching his throat badly enough to make his hoarse words unrecognizable.

Clutching his throat, Sakuma narrowed his eyes at Miyoshi and coughed “What are you here for?”

Oh, he hoped the spy had a little fun. It wasn’t as big of a show as Sakuma almost spilling his guts out but Miyoshi was standing over him in exactly the same way. He was saying nothing but that little smile said everything.

Dipping his chin, acknowledging the question with a little consideration, Miyoshi glanced to his right, looked to his left, and checked both ends of the street. Satisfied that there was no one around, the spy leaned over the bars keeping the river out of pedestrian reach, and vomited.

Sakuma’s mouth fell open and it stayed that way longer than necessary.

“S-Shit!” He scrambled to his feet to go help Miyoshi, kicking up a cloud of dirt as he did, but once he was at the spy’s side, all he could do was hesitantly soothe Miyoshi’s back until he stopped dry heaving.

So the run wasn’t actually an easy contest for Miyoshi but Sakuma wasn’t smug about it. The soldier didn’t take any enjoyment out of others’ pain.

Miyoshi’s arms were limp over the railing and his knees were buckled, sagging under the weight of his exhausted body. Sakuma had no idea how the spy had managed to hide how tired he had run him. It was very impressive but spent a lot more than was necessary over a small contest. Was he trying to prove something Sakuma wasn’t catching again?

Then, Miyoshi grew quiet, dragging his thumb over his lips.

“If I couldn’t keep up appearances in front of Sakuma the soldier, I would have been pushed into a grave by now,” Miyoshi, having read Sakuma’s mind, changed his posture. He was lounging against the short fence, regarding Sakuma like he hadn’t dumped his dinner into the river just a second ago.

Secretly, Sakuma was glad for that. He would have had no idea what to say if Miyoshi didn’t.

“But you. I run into more surprises when you’re around,” Miyoshi looked up at Sakuma, finding that the taller man had stepped away from him, creating a comfortable distance. The spy dwelled on it, glancing at that space, and found it a little irksome that it was there in the first place. Strange. “I’m called back in, told to wait for the next assignment in a no name town, and find you just when I was about to crawl into a bed,” Miyoshi made a half smile. “Technically it’s morning but no one wakes up when the streetlights haven’t gone out.” Sakuma didn’t like where he was going and he wasn’t sure of what to make of Miyoshi sliding closer to him.

“Is the reason you’re out so early the same reason they haven’t shipped you over the sea?” Miyoshi’s question made every part of Sakuma feel heavy. His gaze fell from Miyoshi’s face, missing the spy’s eyes widening at his drop in mood. “Sakuma…san?” Miyoshi chanced, feeling them slip into another bout of silence.

“Were you spying on me?” Sakuma asked, unable to face Miyoshi directly. If his eyes were working right, Miyoshi could have sworn that all of the blood had fallen from Sakuma’s sullen expression.

It would be easy to pull Sakuma’s chin up and tell him that there had been no spying. This meeting had really just been out of pure chance. Miyoshi was in town, happened to see Sakuma, and wanted to see him closer. The rest were easy assumptions and what seemed like an easy question to ask. Then again, would it have been easy for Miyoshi to ask Sakuma if he had really wanted to pass up a night on the town with Miyoshi and the others all that while ago.

Thankfully, a child saved both of them from dying in that increasingly tensing silence.

“Ew!” A young girl shouted, poking her head through the gaps in the barred fence. “There’s something in the river!”

“Ew! What is that?” A boy did the same, watching a blob flow down the river. “It looks like vomit!”

At that, Sakuma looked up, leaning on the fence to peer around Miyoshi.

“Are you sure that’s what it is?” The girl asked, screechy.

“Come on! Get a stick!” The children were giggling, rushing down the river to play with Miyoshi’s big mistake.

“Isn’t it past their curfew?” Sakuma mumbled to himself, slightly worried about the unsupervised children. Miyoshi didn’t spare those children a look and Sakuma, despite knowing nothing about him other than his general appearance if that was his actual face and not a mask, thought he’d do.

That is, Sakuma thought that until he caught sight of Miyoshi’s completely unfettered demeanor. The only thing that betrayed the spy was something he could have taken care of if he hadn’t tired himself out beating Sakuma in that self-imposed challenge.

Miyoshi was flushing in complete embarrassment.

“Don’t worry,” Sakuma clapped his hand on Miyoshi’s shoulder, reassuring him. “They won’t get past the fence.”

Wow, that was not why Miyoshi was flustered at all and the spy couldn’t stop himself from blushing harder, both at Sakuma thinking he actually cared about a bunch of stupid kids and at Sakuma touching him.

Could anyone be that dense?

The clear answer, with a clearly adult man in mind, was no.

“You little bastard.” Miyoshi muttered and Sakuma couldn’t stop the air from blowing out the corner of his mouth. Sakuma’s shoulders shook until he had to clutch Miyoshi to stop himself from falling over and laughed. He laughed loudly and it rang through the empty street. If he got any louder, someone was going to open their window and throw a brick at them.

Miyoshi would have thrown that brick back.

This was the first time the spy had heard Sakuma laugh and admittedly, with the soldier chummily trapping Miyoshi in a one-armed hug and rubbing sweat into his soiled clothes, it was somehow sweet on Miyoshi’s ears.

“I need a shower.” Miyoshi sighed. Some mouthwash would be nice too but he wasn’t going to say that.

“Oh?” Sakuma blinked before trying to mask the last of his laughing behind clearing his throat. “You could use mine.”

Now it was three awkward silences almost in a row.

Sakuma remembered Miyoshi mentioning that he was about to go to bed but his offer came as a knee jerk reaction. It was natural to help a brother in arms but what was Miyoshi to him?

Lips twitching in an attempt to keep himself from stuttering like an idiot, Sakuma stepped away from Miyoshi again.

And Miyoshi stepped towards him, timing it just right.

“Why not?” The spy accepted the offer with a confident raised chin. “Are you going to lead me or can I make an educated guess at where you live?”

“Are you saying that you already know?” Sakuma asked, not noticing how Miyoshi had inched his foot between his shoes.

“It was a joke. I only know what I need to know,” Miyoshi looked towards a nearby alley. “But if I were to guess—“

“My home isn’t a garbage pile,” Sakuma walked past Miyoshi, heading for a space a bit too snug for two people. “It’s simple but not garbage.”

“I’m sure it is.” Miyoshi walked up beside him, brushing his wavy bangs out of his face.

For some reason, Sakuma swallowed. It felt odd. Not bad. Just odd and in some way, Sakuma felt like he didn’t lose at anything that heinously early morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, this was made on a whim sort of. Ah, this is such an attractive ship with only a little to go on but still all and all lovely! I say all of this and ended up writing something cause I thought it'd be funny. Whoops. Uh, I could go and make some more actually romantic scenes or lead up to them? Jury's still out on whether or not I turn this into a series or a bunch of drabbles (and actually make it serious).
> 
> It's also heinously early while I write this so I will probably add more to these notes later.


End file.
